“For Your Consideration” is a fairly typical Christopher Guest ensemble comedy, starring what amounts to his stock company from “Best in Show” and “Waiting for Guffman.” Guest and co-writer Eugene Levy calibrate the fragile egos of minor Hollywood players to the millionth of an inch, for gentle laughs.

“For Your Consideration” follows the cast and crew of a low-budget indie movie, as early Oscar buzz unbalances their delicate relationship with sanity.

What we’d all love to see, though, is the uproariously horrid movie-within-a-movie at the heart of “For Your Consideration.” The cast whose self-worth is so easily put in play is filming “Home for Purim,” and we get tantalizing glimpses of one of the dumbest movies ever made.

“Home for Purim” is the saga of a Jewish family in the deep South, circa World War II; mama is dyin’, oy vey, and sonny boy is on leave from his Navy ship. Big sis, meanwhile, has brought home her lesbian partner for a surprise announcement.

“Your mama was so happy to see you today,” purrs Harry Shearer, in a Brooklyn accent by way of Savannah. “I know she don’t show it, but she was kvelling in her own way.”

Perhaps only a writer like Guest could make the parody even funnier than the surrounding comedy. The made-up script is rolled in cornmeal and then deep fried like a nice latke.

“For Your Consideration” brings back many Guest favorites to ply their out-of-tune song of the South: Catherine O’Hara as mama, Shearer, Parker Posey, Fred Willard, Michael McKean and Bob Balaban. As the Oscar buzz works its evil magic, Guest cuts between the various soul-searchings of his cast and sendups of Hollywood entertainment shows that flog awards season like a dead dark horse.

Guest’s loving parodies of show biz – from stage to dogs to music and now, movies – all feature a rolling series of wagers by the world’s most insecure people. Each character bets that undercutting their own dignity in a small way now will guarantee their eventual fame among a wider group of people. Jennifer Coolidge, playing a bimbo producer, tells a video crew: “1Don’t film my exit. I don’t want anybody to know how I look from the back.”

The suits must arrive on set, of course, gloating with the Oscar talk, and they will demand script tweaks “here and there.” In other words, make it a lot less Jewish. “The Jewish-

ness,” one executive struggles to say, “Tone that down a bit, and everyone can enjoy it.”

Among the cast, the prospect of fame prompts countless surgeries and dental treatments. As the actors’ teeth get whiter and whiter, their hopes grow more and more desperate. Don’t want it too much, another executive says: “Oscar voters – they smell the fear. They smell the hunger.”

Michael Booth was a health care & health policy writer at The Denver Post before departing in 2013. He started his journalism career as an assistant foreign editor at The Washington Post before moving with family to Denver and taking a brief stint with the Denver Business Journal. During a 25-year career at The Post, he covered city and state politics, droughts, entertainment and wrote Sunday takeouts, and was part of two Pulitzer Prize-winning teams for breaking news coverage.

Ben Platt, who more than three years ago spoke the words and sang the music of “Dear Evan Hansen” for the first time, going on to win the Tony Award in June for best actor in a musical, will leave the celebrated musical in the fall, the show’s producers announced Monday.